


Trauma

by gloomyqueliot



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Connor Needs A Hug, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Oneshot, Police, Poor Connor, Trauma, fluff?, gender neutral reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-27
Updated: 2018-06-27
Packaged: 2019-05-29 07:50:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15068552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gloomyqueliot/pseuds/gloomyqueliot
Summary: A oneshot following the premise of the rooftop scene in which Connor is traumatized, but with different setting and slightly different circumstances. Reader is a DPD officer. Connor just /really/ needs some hugs, and I /really/ wanted to give them to him.





	Trauma

**Author's Note:**

> Hi this is very self-indulgent and I know so many ppl have done a spin on this scene. But like....GIVE MY POOR SCARED BOY SOME LOVVVINNNSS.

You knew from the moment the deviant pulled out the pistol that something bad was about to happen. Not uncommon, bad things associated with guns and criminals. But more than that, you knew something bad was about to happen to your team. One member, specifically, whose determination often overpowered his logic.

The weather seemed to mimic the dread you held in the pit of your stomach. Pathetic fallacy, you recalled the term. Seeming opaque sheets of rain bludgeoned the concrete and clattered noisily against the few parked cars in the vicinity. The thin windbreaker you dawned did nothing to protect from the downpour, but it had gotten past the point where wet and dry were distinguishable.

A slight movement to your left caught your eye and you glanced over to see Connor begin to lean out from behind the dumpster, which currently shielded you both from the deviant’s line of sight in the narrow alleyway. His face had barely cleared the corner before he ducked back in, exposing his now yellow LED to you. His brows pulled together slightly in a puzzled, thoughtful expression as he analyzed what he’d just seen. It almost relaxed you, how calculating he was able to be in these moments. That was until, his hands pushed off from the rough street below and he made a move to flee the area of safety.

Your hand shot out in an instant, grasping as much of his jacket as it could and tugging him back down firmly.

“What the _hell_ are you doing?” You hissed, attempting to keep your voice low but knowing the storm would drown out anybody’s hopes of detecting it. Connor flashed you a quizzical look, as if you were clearly one step behind him.

“I’m charging the deviant. You’re going to have to release me if I am to proceed.” His eyes flicked down to the white-knuckled grip you held the fabric on his arm in. You gaped at him, an onslaught of rain gliding down your face and into your open mouth.

“No…no, you’re NOT!” You spluttered, much to his confusion. Before he could rebuttal, you yanked him in closer, making sure he would hear you over the rain. “That deviant has already taken down two men, men who were wearing vests, I might add. We’re not risking a third. There’s plenty of vantage points for a sniper near here; we’re holding out until then.” Connor’s jaw tensed as you spoke, his gaze hardening in defiance through the downpour.

“I need the deviant _alive_ in order to extract information. I need to do it now, any added stressors and it will most definitely self-destru-”

Connor’s voice was cut off by the deafening pop of a gun shot, and you immediately released your hold on him in favour of gripping your own gun tightly. Connor had found this moment suitable to escape, and in less than an instant he was gone, throwing himself out from behind the makeshift barricade.

“CONNOR!” You screamed, bolting upright in a quick attempt to reach him. Rainwater pooled within your boots as you stood in the near-flooded alley, and the rain pelting against the dumpster top now bounced off and drenched you even more. Your arms were outstretched immediately, aiming seemingly in vain through the sheets of water. Still, you were able to clearly make out Connor’s deep grey jacket speeding forwards, and the blue-tainted uniform of the injured deviant. Connor moved quickly, reaching the deviant and hooking an arm beneath the one that held the pistol before it could react. With the gun aiming elsewhere, Connor used the opportunity to seize the deviant’s other arm in his own grip.

Connor’s body shielded your view of what happened next, but the blast of a gunshot and explosive blue splatter were enough to turn your blood cold. For a moment you were frozen, feeling separated completely form the scene before you, as if you were only watching a movie. Your mind refused to acknowledge it was over, not until Connor’s body would slump downwards to the soaking ground below.

But that never happened; instead, you felt the most overwhelming sense of relief wash over you when the body of the deviant collapsed, gun dropping from its hand and skidding across the pavement. For an instant everything was still; Connor’s form stood as straight as ever overtop of the destroyed android, the view of his back giving you no insight of his demeanor. Nothing could be heard aside from the hissing of the violent rainstorm as it drenched the scene before you. And then two officers were surging forward, one shoving Connor aside roughly in order to get to the body. Your gun was still raised, you noticed belatedly. Lowering it, you holstered it while never removing your gaze from Connor. The shove left him stumbling, _actually stumbling,_ and he braced himself against the brick wall of the adjacent building.

“Connor?” You called, squinting through the rain at his huddled form. You began to jog towards him now, calling him once more with urgency. Your heart began to hammer in your chest as you reached him, the bright blue of thirium already visible on his torso despite his shielded posture. “CONNOR!” You yelled, begging him to answer you. As soon as you were within reach, you latched onto his jacket, prying it apart in order to assess his injuries. Thankfully, most of the thirium seemed to belong to the deviant, although the sheer amount of it soaking into Connor’s shirtfront made your stomach churn. “Connor, what’s wrong? Are you hurt? Talk to me,” Your gaze shifted periodically from his body to his face as you waited for a response, prodding his stomach and chest for a sign of damage.

Connor’s expression was vacant, though his eyes, wider than you’d ever seen, remain locked on the deviant’s corpse behind you. His LED glowed a vibrant red against the somber grey atmosphere around you.

“Okay…I-I’m okay,” His lips barely moved as he spoke, and his voice itself was nearly too quiet to be detected. You stilled the movement of your hands then, shifting your gaze to focus solely on Connor’s face; his bottom lip trembled, mouth opening and closing slightly as if he was unsure of what to say next. You made the decision for him, reaching up to cup his jaw with your left hand and stilling the motion altogether.

With his face resting in your palm, his eyes were forced to peer into yours. Suddenly, you were met with the last thing you’d expect to see emanating the android’s eyes before you: pure _fear_. Connor’s gaze fell again, and you felt his jaw clench beneath your fingertips.

“I was connected to its memory, and I….I felt it die,” He paused then, rain cascading down his face as he brought his glazed eyes back up to meet yours. “Like _I_ was dying. I was _scared._ ” Your heart sank to the pit of your stomach at his last remark, the way his voice cracked and his lip trembled.

“But you’re not,” you breathed in a rush to reassure him. Your thumb swept back and forth against his chin as you spoke. “You’re okay, Connor. You’re alright.”

He knew this. And you _knew_ he knew this. Still, you were tempted to request a diagnostic so he could prove it to himself that none of his biocomponents had been damaged. He nodded against your palm in acknowledgement, almost leaning in to your touch.

The rain had begun to let up, granting you a clearer view of Connor’s face. Something about his expression, vacant but seemingly suppressing bouts of panic, seemed familiar. You were reminded of the countless victim and witness accounts you’d collected in the past following such events, but you’d never thought an android could become this affected; Connor seemed _traumatized._

“Oh, Connor,” you all but whispered, gently tugging him forward until his body met yours. His face found its way into the crook of your neck and you wrapped both arms overtop of his shoulders in a sloppy embrace. Connor fisted the soaking material of your jacket tightly as he shuddered within your hold. You slid one hand gently through his dampened locks of hair, not really knowing if the gesture was comforting to him. If anything, he clung to you tighter, silently prompting you to continue.

“I don’t want to die.” His statement was blunt, a simple fact that he needed to have heard by somebody. You wondered if this thought had haunted him for long, or had only been realized once faced with the sheer reality of it. Either choice was heart-wrenching.

“You won’t. You’re safe,” was all you could muster, knowing well enough that you could never truly guarantee either.

You held him for a little while longer, using your free hand to rub gentle circles near his shoulder blade. The storm had nearly moved on, the sky lightening and only a slight drizzle coming down now. It made you painfully aware of how drenched your clothes had gotten and how chilling the air felt against any exposed skin.

“You’re cold,” Connor murmured against your shoulder and you wondered if he could hear your teeth chattering. It baffled you that, despite nearly getting shot only minutes ago, he found it in him to place his concern on how _cold_ you were. Letting out a breath of a laugh, you finally began to pull back from the embrace you held him in.

“A little,” you humoured him before nodding your head towards the alley’s exit. “We should go.”

Connor released the grip he’d had on your jacket and offered a shallow nod in agreement. Silently, you ushered him ahead of you, tempted to rest your hand at the small of his back as you walked. Watching him react like that, watching him _feel_ , tugged at something inside you. You made a silent promise to yourself and to Connor, that you’d protect him as much as you knew he protected you.

 

**Author's Note:**

> This was longer than it needed to be and the ending was just ??? bc i NEEDED to end it or I would've written 10 more pages. This is my first DBH work and I wanna do more!!! Leave a request below if you want, and I /may/ get around to doing it! Neat! 
> 
>  
> 
> pls protect my boy


End file.
